Thursday, February 25, 2010

I noticed that someone has actually started to check off on the comments blocks below the poems. I loved seeing that but wonder if it is only one person and why not more. Just curious. I also noted that I got another follower this week. I would love to have some more sign on as followers. It doesn't cost anything but gives me a warm and fuzzy feeling when I see who is following the posts.And I will take requests if you have something you want to see in rhyme, let me know and I will attempt to write one for you.

Tuesday, February 23, 2010

I wrote this the other night. i think it would make a great country song - someone just needs to strum along on a guitar to the rhythm of the words.

I used to wear a suit and tieI sat in an office & watched years go byIt was my lifeIt was a lieWhen I had to wear that suit and tieWhen I was young, I had a planOf what I’d be when grown a manIt was a dreamThat I let dieAnd so I donned a suit and tieI longed to write in verse or songAnd when it’d play, they’d sing alongIt was kept quietI was too shyI had to wear a suit and tieSo for a while I tried to teachThe only stage within my reachIt didn’t workDespite my tryI resigned myself to suit and tieAfter 30 years in managementIt paid the bills; it paid the rentIt dawned on meAnd I knew whyI couldn’t wear that suit and tieAnd so here I sit with pen in handTrying to get back to my boyhood planI write for meWith writing I flyAnd I no longer don that old suit and tie

Saturday, February 20, 2010

Yesterday we witnessed a confrontation between a stork that caught a fish that was too big to swallow whole and a gathering crowd that wanted a piece of the fish. I would have taken a picture if my camera had not broken. Here is the complete story.

It was steadfast concentrationA fish too bigA throat too smallIt was dogged determinationA stork’s attemptTo have it allIt was a standoff confrontationBetween he that hasAnd those have notAnd thus this presentationTo dignifyThis fishy plotA buzzard, a stork And a fish by the shoreAn egret came by And then 3 buzzards moreThe stork caught the fishIt’s too big to devourThe standoff beganAnd it lasted an hourThe stork shook the fishTo tear off a biteThe buzzards peered inTo keep that fish in sightThe egret just walked Back and forth on the bankWatching the buzzardsHe’d have to outflankEach time the storkDropped the fist with a splashThe egret and buzzardsAll turned in a flashBut that didn’t deter himHe kept trying to swallowAnd each time he movedThe others would followEach time the stork picked The fish up in his beakHe turned and just stared down Those birds so to speakBut one time the buzzardsGot hold of that fishThen fought off each otherTo get at that dishWhen out of the waterThe stork charged that crowdSquawking and squeakingAnd getting quite loudSo the buzzards backed downAs the cowards they areThey look mighty toughBut they hate to sparSo the stork just stormed offA ways down the shoreAfter giving the egret And buzzards what forI never did see How the story turned outBut the stork ate that whole fishI would bet without doubt

Thursday, February 18, 2010

I wrote this for a friend who appears to be going crazy due to all the snow the DC area had and the closure of work and school and roads and just about any other thing you would think of. She had to run outside in the snow but first had to clear a narrow path to do so. And she kept everyone entertained with her videos of coping with the situation.She llloooves how running shoes will smellNot just her’s; other’s as wellIt’s really not that hard to tellThat girl’s got cabin fever

She llloooves to post those videosOf her outside in running clothesWith frozen fingers; frozen toesThat girl’s got cabin feverShe llloooves to tell of work undoneHer discontent of treadmill runsHer longing for a warming sunThat girl’s got cabin feverI think perhaps she’s flipped her lidFrom all those things she wished she’d didShe tries so hard to keep it hidThat girl’s got cabin feverShe’s just not a make believerShe needs a white knight to retrieve herCome on guys, you just can’t leave herThat girl’s got cabin fever

Tuesday, February 16, 2010

This should be interesting to all you coffee drinkers. I for one do not drink the stuff and having read all about this new expensive London brew and even more convinced that I have made the right choice. I even had to find out what a palm civet looked like. If any of you want to give me your assessment of the brew, I would love to hear from you.

What's that bean you're poppin'Is it made from pole cat droppin'Has it got that earthy taste and earthy smellIs it made for coffee drippinFor an afternoon of sippinIs it something I could buy or you could sellHas it come yet to your nationFrom it's Indones plantationCoffee beans passed through a palm civet?They say the juices, gastricMake the flavor quite fantasticAll from a cross of monkey and a catHe eats the coffee cherryDigests pulp, poops out the berryAnd that's the bean the pickers all pick upOnce collected, well they grind itAnd that's all there is behind itAnd for that they charge you 50 pounds a cupThat's the latest, greatest storyFrom old London (from a Tory)About the most expensive coffee that's aroundIf you don't care where it came fromThen I dare you just to drain someAs for me, I just don't think I'd keep it down

Sunday, February 14, 2010

I wrote this for my wife for Valentine's Day. I do not write very many romatic poems as they are the hardest to write.

You first were a dream of mineI could not see your faceNor the place or the timeBut you first were a dream of mineThe scent of wild flowers in early springThe song that you hear when the meadowlark singThe glint of the snow in the winter sunshineYou first were a dream of mineThe softness of fur of a young kitty catThe warmth of the sun on my back as I satThe pleasure you get when you taste a fine wineYou first were a dream of mineThe sparkle and love that I saw in your eyesAs we passed by each other – Hellos and goodbyesThe brush of your hand sent chills up my spineYou first were a dream of mineNow when I awake and you’re there by my sideI think back to that day when you first were my brideAnd how dreams can come true as if by designYou first were a dream of mineYou first were a dream of mineI could not see your faceNor the place or the timeBut you first were a dream of mine

I wrote this for my wife for our anniversary. however, I wrote it in September but our anniversary was not until 27 Dec and we were gone for the holidays so I forgot to give it to her until today. She loved it anyway.

We can just stand here holding on to each otherSwaying to the music we don’t need any otherReason – To be squeezing Each otherWe can just listen to the music that they’re playingShuffling our feet, hardly even swayingTeasing - And just pleasing Each otherI love you and you love meAnd we both know what appears to beUnfolding – While holding Each other

Tuesday, February 9, 2010

This poem is dedicated to Jim Hixson and Joan Redfern for all the entertainment they have provided me with their comments and updates on the snlw conditions in DC this week. Keep up the commentaries and I will keep up the poetry.Tis true the snow has comethFrom out the Northern skyAnd ere it riseth to my waistMy shovel I will plyMy back is in discomfortI stoop and with a sighI look into the heavens“Lord, stop this snow” I cryBut the snow, it keeps on fallingAnd I get no replySo I’ll just go on diggingTill Spring comes by and by

For those of you having a hard time trying to decide what to give your sweetheart for Valentine's Day, here are some suggestions and the problems you might encounter with each. You will have to decide for yourself if any of these suggestions are worth the effort. Let me know what works for you.

I’d buy my wife some flowersBut she might have allergiesIf so she would berate meAnd knock me to my kneesAnd torture me incessantlyEach time she had to sneezeI’d buy my wife some flowersBut she might have allergiesI’d buy my wife some earringsBut she’d question my intentShe’d think I’m feeling guiltyFor someplace that I wentAnd I know that if I did soShe’d complain of money spentI’d buy my wife some earringsBut she’d question my intent

I’d buy my wife some clothingBut she’d take it back I’m sureI’d like her to dress friskyShe dresses more demureAnd if I mis-guess sizesThat pain I can’t endureI’d buy my wife some clothingBut she’d take it back I’m sureI’d give my wife a diamondBut that’s just a lump of coalThat has been under pressure In a deep and dark holeAnd to give your sweetheart old rocksShe’d think me but a trollI’d give my wife a diamondBut that’s just a lump of coalI’d take my wife out diningBut we’d fight about just whereShe’d say she can’t eat all of thatWe should get something to shareBut her tastes and mine are differentI’d find nothing I like thereI’d take my wife out diningBut we’d fight about just where

So I’m left with indecisionOn what her gift should beI’ve got to get her somethingOr risk an injuryA card you’d buy from HallmarkWell, that just isn’t meSo I hope that she will settle From some heart felt poetry

Monday, February 8, 2010

This is one of those times when the gift is not appreciated in the same vein that it was given. This was not a true story (at least it did not happen to me) but I liked the story and so decided to put it into rhyme. Let me know if you like it.

My husband was unhappy With my mood swings (large and growing)So he bought for me a mood ring, His affection clearly showingHe said this would allow him To see the mood I’m inAnd then to act accordingly; That was so kind of himHe discovered that a good mood Would make the ring turn greenBut a bad mood left a frickin mark On his forehead big and meanI think he learned his lesson; He learned it pretty fastNext time he’ll buy me diamonds. My husband – my dumb ass!

Friday, February 5, 2010

I wrote this a few years ago - I forgot to put the date down at the time.

I don’t understand why cupidRepresents Valentine’s DayThe guys who decided were stupidIs pretty much all I can sayWhenever I think of romanceThe last thing on my mindIs a chubby winged toddlerWith weapons of some kindAnd while I am willing to do my portionTo honor the love of my lifeMost men think of this day as extortionAnd a Hall Mark day just for the wifeSo as usual I'm not sending you flowersAnd you're not even getting a cardBut you know for the next several hoursI'll be thinking of you real hard

Thursday, February 4, 2010

The year was 1959 – the Barbie Doll was born
Kids thought it just a doll – Critics called it porn
Created by Ruth Handler – a founder of Mattel
She named it for her daughter – was she endowed as well
And later when the Ken doll was brought into the light
She named it for her little boy – who never seemed quite right

The year was 1938 when Disney showed the world
What 7 little guys would do with one Snow White – a girl
They held her in a cabin way back in the woods
Made her cook and clean for them and pick up all their goods
Then somewhere in the story – she faked her own demise
A prince came to her rescue – the dwarfs were none the wise

The PLO was founded in 1969
Yasir thought it would unite divided Palestine
But peace – it did not happen and is not close at hand
They haven’t got a home yet – they just squat on Israel’s land

Patty Hearst was kidnapped in 1974
By the SLA from Berkley if you’re keeping score
They thought they had a gold mine with ransom money on the way
Then she showed up in the photos when they robbed the bank one day
Our Pat was disillusioned and so she joined the crew
And gladly fought against “the man” like all good terrorists do
But when the girl was captured she changed her sweet refrain
“I really didn’t have a choice – you know they washed my brain!”

Wednesday, February 3, 2010

Dr. MurrayThey picked up Dr. Murray Manslaughter is the chargeThey nabbed him at the airportHe no longer is at largeThey say he killed our MichaelWith his medical adviceAnd if he were to cop a pleaThe fans would scream “NO DICE”You see they have been clamoringSince Michael was departedThey say this man’s been free too longLet’s get the trial startedThey said it was his needleThat produced a poison stingThat brought down our Pop IdolThat fans all thought the KingI’d say they’ve got the verdictAlready in their handThey’re just waiting for Doc MurrayTo finally take the stand

A good friend of mine sent me the sentiment and I put it into rhyme for her. I hope you like it.

Women are angels sent down with love To hold us or scold us or all the aboveSure it’s hard to believe but you’d better not scoff If you break their hearts, their wings will fall offAnd without those wings, she’s an unhappy chickFlying at you on her crusty broomstickSo as Valentine’s nears, you had better take careSo she’ll have those wings when she takes to the air

This is for all of you with significant others and no idea how to tell them how special they are on Valentine's Day. Just pick one of the simple 4-line poems and give it to your sweetheart and you should be OK. They have worked for me for the past 38 years with my wife.

Violets are blueRoses are redI forgot to say “love you”This morning in bed.Roses are redCandy is sweetYour loves keeps me goingAnd makes me completeRoses are redViolets are neverI married you onceBut love you foreverRoses are redBut die off to soonI’ll be thinking of youFrom morning to noonRoses are redViolets are flowersI’ve been thinking about you For hours and hoursRoses are redViolets – not quiteI’ve loved you foreverHow bout tonight!Roses are redAs I’ve told you beforeI’ve loved you foreverForever – and more!Roses are redViolets are blueAs the author intendedThis means “I Love You”

Poems from Ocean Ridge, North Carolinia

Welcome! I write poetry. Not all of it good - not all of it bad. I write to get reactions and I love feedback. I even love to be challenged to write about something a reader wants to hear. Drop me a line and let me know what's on your mind.

Mike

About Me

I was a government employee for 30 years - now I think of myself as a writer. I have written poems all my life so I want to share some of them. I really want to hear from anyone that reads these poems. Please let me know what you think.